


Fell in the night by the ones you think you love

by twoheartsx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Can be seen as bunnyribbit or not, D.va is morally corrupt, F/M, I likely made Junkertown worse than it is but I can see it being harsh, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Junker!D.va, Reversewatch, Vishkar!Lucio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheartsx/pseuds/twoheartsx
Summary: D.va was a junker with a mechanical ability. As it turns out Vishkar could use someone like that.





	Fell in the night by the ones you think you love

**Author's Note:**

> The title of the fic is from the song Daniel in the den by Bastille. I randomly got this idea and wrote it in the span of an hour so sorry if it isn't the best. I just love the reverse au and thought the tag needed more fics. I also love D.va and this was too perfect of an idea to not write. Let me know if I missed anything or forgot to tag anything and I hope you guys enjoy it.

The sun was hot as it beat down on the little junky town. The sound of metal clashing could be heard from miles away. Across miles of desolate desert. The crowd roaring as they watched another fight between Junkers. The winner gets a prize, one that was to them worth risking life and limb for. Money, which was hard to come by in this trashy place. A place forgotten by the world. Another victim of the omnic crisis and the war. Something no one cared to save, at least that’s what everyone said. D.va honestly couldn’t care if anyone thought Junkertown mattered. It didn’t matter if anyone cared or not. No one did anything, no one came to help. That alone proved grieving and getting angry was a waste of time. They made do as is. Outside help was not needed. 

The battle before her came to an end after over an hour. The hot sun and exhaustion wearing down on the competitors till one collapsed. Bloody and possible dead. If so, his family, whatever he had left of one, would be compensated for his death. A small token of condolence to the family that likely wouldn’t mourn him. Maybe they would. D.va didn’t know. She had no family. No one to patch up her wounds, no one to hug her or reassure her everything would be okay. No, her parents died in the war. She never even got the chance to meet them. She was raised by herself and the few people that snatched her off the streets for a few weeks only to toss her back out. Days she’d spend bruised or starving, at times she was both. Her luck picked up at ten when a kind old lady took her in, only for it to be damned when she was thirteen when the women died of illness. The only three years that D.va knew kindness and warmth. After that it was back to the streets, back to fighting for every meal and to stay alive. She’d thought about giving up, but decided the world wouldn’t win that easy. 

“D.va,” A voice called, breaking her from her thoughts. She turned to see a middle aged man in a shop. He had a towel in his hand. She knew who the man was, she owed him money and that made her not want to go see him. The thought he’d take payment anyway he wanted, because she didn’t have the money to pay her debt. She clinched her fist and walked over to the man, keeping a bit of a distance between them. 

“I don’t have your money.” D.va is stright to the point. If this man wants to beat her or take his payment some other way, she’d deal with it then. She refused to lie and be scared. She’d learned fear gets you nowhere by the age of seven. 

“I know that, bitch,” The man growled, glaring at her. His gaze stayed hard, but he continued speaking to her. “There's a lad here. Says he wants to speak with ya.” 

“Who is he?” D.va asked and tried not to show how surprised she was. People never came to see her, unless she owed them or they needed her service. She did maintenance on anything from prosthetics to cars. She’d even built her own mecha which she’d used to win some money. If anyone was looking for her it had to be someone she owed money to or someone looking for her service. 

“Some fancy guy.” The man shrugged. D.va pushed past him and walked into the small bar. There was some stairs to the right that lead to a seating area which wasn’t ever as packed as downstairs. She figured that was where this guy was at. “Get us some money so you can pay up.” 

“You’ll get your payment.” D.va would be sure once she got out of here she payed back each and everyone of them for their kindness. She climbed up the stairs, walking quickly. She was eager to meet this man. To see what he wanted with her. When she got to the top of the stairs she seen a man at a corner table. She knew this was the man Rusty spoke about because he was dressed fancy. He didn’t look like he belonged in Junkertown at all. She walked over to the table, taking a seat quickly. The man looked up from the device he had, a holopad. D.va had never seen one and if she had, it wasn’t hers to touch. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet the most talented mechanic in all of Junkertown, possible the world.” The man said, his smile friendly and fake. D.va knew what fake smiles looked like. Even more so what fake kindness looked like. She faked it daily. As she looked at the man she realized more so that she knew exactly who he was. 

“Lucio Correia Dos Santos, what is the spokesperson and face of Vishkar doing in a place like Junkertown?” She asked. The look on his face said he was surprised she knew who he was. Most people in this town didn’t know anything outside it. D.va wasn’t most people. She was savvy and she had information on a few of the affairs outside Junkertown. She played dumb, but she was aware of the chaos going on outside this place. She knew Junkertown wasn’t the only ones suffering. 

“I’m looking for a friend,” Lucio said. He reached his hand across the table, attempting to place it over D.va’s. She moved her hand back some. He didn’t react to this, only keeping his eyes on her face. “I’m a little bit of a fan of your work, D.va.” 

“As I am of yours. Using music to persuade people to agree with yours and Vishkar’s ideals.” D.va watched the way his eyes sparkled as she spoke of his work. Of how she enjoyed it. Likely no one ever said that. Not without being convinced to. Lucio leaned over the table, his face closer to D.va’s now. 

“What do you say? I will get you out of here. You will have money and everything you could want. All I need from you is your mechanical genius.” Lucio reached for D.va’s hand, but this time she didn’t pull away. He took her hand in his own, holding it. He brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the rough knuckles. “We would make wonderful partners.” 

D.va wants to think on it more, but she remembers the debt she owes. She could make this place better. If she works with this man, with Lucio, she could come back someday and make her home good again. People wouldn’t have to fight for food. Children wouldn’t die without medicine. Things could be good again. She could be happy for once. She just smiles at him and says, “You’ve got a deal, Lucio.” 

Lucio leans back in his chair, releasing his hold on D.va’s hand. He smiles at the Junker in a way that says he knew she wouldn’t refuse. She had nothing here in the first place. Lucio stands up and tells her. “I’ll go get us a drink to celebrate our alliance.” After the words leave his mouth he walks away to get this drink. D.va hopes it’s something expensive with how rich he seems to be. She looked over, seeing her reflection in the window. Her short brown hair that was in much need of washing. Grease smeared over her cheek and across her nose. She starts to wonder what she’ll look like without all the dirt and grime on her. She doesn’t have much time to think since Lucio is quick. He comes back with two drinks. He sets them down then sits in front of her once more. He lifts his glass and D.va does the same. He raises his glass and says, “To our union.” 

“To oppression.” D.va taps her glass with Lucio’s and takes a sip. It’s strong and has a bad bite, but she doesn’t care. The taste is awful, but she knows she’s swallowed much worse. No more though. From now on, she only had the best. She’d be sure Lucio kept up his word. She would never want again. She would never be that lonely girl on the street, suffering ever again. 

Now she’d help Lucio do what had been done to her since she was young. She’d be the one controlling and stepping on others instead of being stepped on. She’d make everyone who wronged her pay someday. Starting with the Junker queen.


End file.
